


Please Don’t Tell Me that I’m The Only One that’s Vulnerable (Impossible)

by tukimecca



Series: Everything that makes me whole (I'll dedicate them all to you) [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Boys In Love, Comfort, Fluff, Jaehyun is smitten, M/M, Pre-Slash, Taeyong is oblivious, but is a good senpai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:59:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9562313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tukimecca/pseuds/tukimecca
Summary: Graduation should make him happy, but Jaehyun finds himself uneasy. Taeyong catches on.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pinktogrey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinktogrey/gifts).



_Tell me, tell me_  
_What makes you think that you are invincible?_  
_I can see it in your eyes that you're so sure_

Vulnerable - Secondhand Serenade

:::

There’s always something about graduation that makes Jaehyun’s heart stutters. Like child who just learned how to speak and is expected to make speech in front of his parents’ friends. There’s expectation; a sign that they trust his capability, an honor. There’s also fear, because his vocabulary is still limited to what his parent had taught him, and he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself.

With fear comes loneliness, inescapable. He’s given independence to act on his own volition, no guiding hands; of parent and teacher. No shared smiles between friends that said, ‘ _we’re in this together’_ whenever he raised his head to look around.

Then look around Jaehyun does. In the sea of black and yellow, sense of achievement floods in, reminding him he had survived these long, arduous three years and is honored to further decorate the name of his Alma-mater.

His gaze swims, but he smiles even though it teeters on the edge every now and then. Faint, that if you don’t know Jaehyun, you wouldn’t be able to tell.

The thing is, Lee Taeyong knows Jaehyun. Lee Taeyong with his ever so big, enticing dark eyes, looks at Jaehyun with bemused expression. Thinking, but not hard enough. It’s like solving a puzzle; a familiar one that doesn’t require you to think that much to solve it.

Jaehyun secretly wishes he is not that easy to figure out, but he guesses Taeyong’s insight when it comes to him itself is another blessing. He can trust his hyung to come to his aid whenever Jaehyun is distressed but his larger than life ego forbids him from reaching out to anyone.

Taeyong will always be there; long limbs welcoming, frail fingers strongly secure as they’re laced with Jaehyun’s own stubbier, bigger ones. Waiting as he takes Jaehyun’s much larger and taller body into the safe haven provided by his smaller frame. Jaehyun often times wondered, as he drowns himself in Taeyong’s soothing scent – fresh citrus with hint of warm cardamom and spices – how could someone so delicate and small be this sound and big. It, Jaehyun assumed when he felt the soft murmur of Taeyong’s heartening words on his shivering skin during his lowest, must have come from his heart; heart that people thought to be black and murky like stormy night when in fact it’s anything but.

Taeyong is not the catastrophe like people believed him to be, result of thoughtless child and unwise judgement. A macabre of darkened red on Taeyong’s already impaired heart. The outcome of past unspoken. Something that Taeyong is not willing to disclose yet despite the five years they had spent in each other’s company.

And Jaehyun respects that decision, even if he always finds himself wishing Taeyong would have let him in already past that towering Iron Gate bounded by chains that’s guarding Taeyong’s heart.

He respects that, because Taeyong respects him, and he is home welcoming, never pushing him, always waiting patiently with smile encouraging and eyes understanding. Not asking for anything in return, never, for Taeyong always feels himself undeserving when Jaehyun thinks otherwise.

Anybody deserves a second chance, Jaehyun remembers himself saying once, when they’re huddled together in practice room after midnight, when world retreated behind the curtain, and Taeyong let himself unravel under the secrecy promised by the night-fall.

Taeyong’s eyes shone under the dark, glimmering with tears and his regret, past mistake standing still on his shoulders, weighing him down mercilessly more than the responsibility that had been tasked upon him; to be the leader of their team. And Taeyong had accepted the duty, voice steady like Gibraltar-rock when he spoke but once he’s away from expecting eyes, when there were only the two of them left in the practice room, he crumbled like a house of sand and dust.

Jaehyun was thankful that as knowing as Taeyong when it came to him, he does as much, and so he caught Taeyong by the elbow; firm grip on quivering joints. His skin was febrile, and his stony face that betrayed the loud sound of his cracking heart drew Jaehyun in, and he held Taeyong right there by core, “hyung,” he called and Taeyong had answered, “Jaehyunnie” before severing the last string that had held himself upright.

He remembers pulling Taeyong in, remembers fastening one arm on the tiny waist as he walked backward until his back hit the door, one finger fumbling to lock it before switching off the light of practice room.

He remembers Taeyong crying soundlessly on his neck, crystalline tears hot on Jaehyun’s sweaty skin. The temperature rose, past the boiling point yet Taeyong was cold, like he’s dying, and Jaehyun was borderline desperate to warm him up.

“I don’t deserve this, this-“ Taeyong gasped, wrapping his arms around himself like Jaehyun’s arms weren’t enough of protection. Jaehyun remembered feeling powerless, for once hating anyone who said strength comes from the body, because the shaking, lithe figure in his arms was much smaller than him, yet he’s so much more stronger. “The leader, I-“

Taeyong’s fingers – fingers that would sneak in between Jaehyun’s hair, ruffling the sweat-clumped tresses with tenderness of handling diamond – dug into his icy skin. Jaehyun pried them away with little difficulty before trapping them inside the clasp of his own hand. He pressed his plea of “Hyung, stop,” to the skin of Taeyong’s neck, feeling every single tremor that rake easily broken boy.

Taeyong didn’t stop immediately, of course, but Jaehyun held him there until his cry died down into silent whimper and his body melted into Jaehyun’s. Like snow into the earth under the sun, and Jaehyun wished Taeyong had finally _returned_ to him the very same way water comes down to the soil after winter has ended, repeating the endless cycle of life and season.

Jaehyun told him then, of second chance and forgiveness. Of people who’s willing to see past the mistake of ignorant child. Of world that is as forgiving as it is unforgiving, and hard work that will always pay in the end. Easy, convenient words. Strings of vocabulary that could mean nothing once reality decided to come crashing in, in similar way Taeyong’s past did after it woke up with its long slumber, vengeful and unpitying.

“What do I do without you, Jaehyunnie,” Taeyong had laughed, wet and raspy, but it’s laugh nonetheless and Jaehyun thought it’s better than nothing, because at least it meant that Taeyong was trying.

Because Taeyong is strong – will always be – their pillar, fortress indomitable; once ruined yet is rebuilt. Under the citadel that is him they’d seek refuge, and Jaehyun doubted the other trainees would seek other bastion than him, even if they knew the wrongful doing little Taeyong had committed. That was then and this is now.

Now Taeyong is changing, fully aware of his fault and is desperate to stop anyone from walking the same path he had come from.

Such is the strength of Lee Taeyong, and Jaehyun wished so fervently that he could come as close to him, to possess at least a miniscule of that gift in him. One years, two years. If he became an adult, would he have it? If he had grown out of the skin of his childhood and adolescence, would he be as strong?

And Taeyong is here too now, figuring him out. The hands of time point to nine and two, night has come back to claim its territory, chasing the brilliant sunlight to its resting abode. They had celebrated Jaehyun’s graduation earlier over hearty conversation and abundant amount of food. His hyungs had pampered him, juniors crowded around him with earnest congratulation. Laughs were exchanged, and the dining table came alive under their excitements.

Now that the euphoria had died down, Jaehyun is left in his maroon-sweater, hair still damp from earlier shower and the previously lively table is now empty, pristine clean under Taeyong’s ever so meticulous care. The elder was just done wiping it when Jaehyun emerged from the bathroom with tower hanging on his neck. Then Taeyong pinned him with that calculating look before raising his voice.

“Jaehyunnie?” Taeyong calls, parting through the drapes called musing with eyes full with clarity. He has done then, untangling knotted string that is Jaehyun, stretches it into thin, straight line, and sees all of him.

Jaehyun unconsciously shies away from the gaze, dropping it from pair of liquid obsidian to thin, and blueish skin under. He frowns, does Taeyong have problem sleeping again? “Yes, hyung?”

“Come out with me?” Jaehyun watches as his hyung folds the cloth with practiced-ease, eyes still locked on Jaehyun’s face.

He recalls how Taeyong had tended to his yellow uniform earlier. He offered to wash it for Jaehyun before he sends it back to his home for his mother to save. Jaehyun had agreed, heart fluttered secretly as he shed the uniform with care, feeling whisper of melancholy as the cloth slid off from his skin. A uniform he will wear no more. A uniform that was once his pride and identity. A uniform that Taeyong used to wear as well.

Taeyong took the uniform and folded it with care, like handling precious glass-work. Jaehyun found himself watching, mesmerized as his eyes followed the fluid movement of Taeyong’s hand. Sure and graceful, like his dance. He wondered how Taeyong could make something as simple as folding clothes be that beautiful, maybe it’s the mild smile on his face, or the way sentimentality had painted rosewater color on Taeyong’s almost surreal, picturesque face.

Either way, it took Jaehyun’s breath away, and now Taeyong’s face has taken similar expression. He finds his heart stumbles once again. “Where?”

This time, it’s Taeyong’s turn to casts his gaze away, short yet full lashes cast shadow over pale skin, making his dark eyes appear fuller. Timidly, he says, “well, I know you’ve celebrated your graduation earlier with all the kids, but I figure, you know,” he pauses, exhales shakily before locking their eyes together.

Jaehyun finds it near impossible to breath, heart pit-a-patter in excited step and skittish dance. “Okay,” the word rushes out from his mouth before his brain can comprehend.

“Okay?” Taeyong visibly brightens up, the edge of his lips stretches upward into delighted smile.

Jaehyun is helplessly thunderstruck, he can only parrots his earlier word, “okay.”

“Okay,” his hyung smiles like he invents smiling himself, eyes turning into crescent moon – glinting silver in bed of rich, luscious black. Row of pristine white teeth peeks from under his cherry-rose lips, Jaehyun’s heart does an impressive cartwheel in his stomach. “I will get ready then.”

Taeyong disappears to his room with bouncy steps, Jaehyun buries his face in his damp towel. He really needs to keep steadier reign over his emotion it seems.

:::

Taeyong emerges from the room with eyeliner drawn, emphasizing his already big glimmering-coal eyes. Other than that, his face is free from the embellishing touch of make-up, dark brows already full with no further assistance, complimenting his near-faultless face.

He puts on the cap, checking his reflection on the mirror when he fixes his hair. The mirror reflects Jaehyun too when he shuffles into the picture, grinning toothily, “I think that’s enough, princess,” he teases, completely meaning it.

Taeyong’s hair can resemble a train-wreck, and he’ll never fail to send Jaehyun’s heart to a state near cardiac arrest. The remark earns him a pout, then Taeyong flat out ignores him, returning to styling his hair until he deems it satisfying.

They leave the apartment with laughs in their trail, joking about Donghyuk’s latest mischievousness that had rendered even the ever so chirpy Doyoung speechless. Under the protective veil of after hours, they’re free from prying eyes. Jaehyun isn’t so worried about being found out either, they’re not that famous enough to warrant issues if spotted hanging out together, and the _worst_ that could happen is fan asking for photograph or signs.

Still, Taeyong pulls his cap low, hiding his pretty eyes from view. Jaehyun hides the pang of disappointment behind presses of shoulder on shoulder, knocks of elbow, and tangle of fingers, pulling Taeyong along the closer they got to their destination.

Seoul under the blanket of silver moonlight is as animated as it is under the golden sun, the only difference being mature and older faces that painted the street instead of soft liveliness of youngsters. Office workers with their tie askew and shirt crinkled; beautiful women in high heels and glossy lips; young men in similar hoodies with their boisterous laugh; couples holding hands as they huddle together, ordering their food in between shy and joyous whispers.

Jaehyun wonders in which category do he and Taeyong belongs to, but his mind desserts the thought immediately when Taeyong – all pressed up on his side – looks up to him, boyish grin peeking from beneath the black cap. “Well, make your pick, you honey pig, it’s all on me.”

If Jaehyun isn’t so distracted by mention of free food, he’d squish Taeyong’s unblemished face between his palms, but Jaehyun is a simple man with simple source of happiness, and his parent always remind him to be grateful. He spares Taeyong’s cheeks and squeezes his arm instead, smiling earnestly and wishes the gesture is enough to convey his appreciation toward the elder’s kindness. “Thank  you, Taeyongie-hyung.”

Taeyong’s grin softens around the edge, eyes losing the shining mirth in place of warmly-lit affection. Jaehyun’s breathe catches in his throat, torn in between happiness and melancholy because he knows the affection Taeyong has for him is not quite the same one he harbors toward the elder.

Still, happiness is happiness, and with bright, ecstatic laugh, Jaehyun pulls Taeyong toward the counter to make his order, fingers curling tightly around Taeyong’s thin wrist. It is not their contact that makes swarm of butterflies fluttering in his stomach; it is the simple fact of Taeyong treating him for dinner at this time of the day.

Taeyong is no big eater, he snacks often but despite the frequency, he is nowhere as a food-junkie as Jaehyun is. He knew the earlier dinner with the kids had Taeyong’s stomach full already, yet he’s still willing to go out with Jaehyun to eat, just to please and congratulate him.

Feeling suddenly even fuller with emotion, Jaehyun turns to his senior, tightening the hold on Taeyong’s wrist a little more, subtly drawing him closer. “Hyung, really, thank you. This means a lot to me.”

His hyung; his pretty, alluring hyung with handsomeness of a fairy-tale prince and grace of queen, yet still so delicate with his childlike earnestness, gives him a funny look, smiles turning crooked at one side. “It’s just a dinner, Jaehyunnie, nothing special.”

The word ‘because it’s you, it’s even more special’ almost slip out from his mouth, but Jaehyun has tightened the leash around his self-control before he left, so he swallows them back instead and nods eagerly before making his order.

Minutes later found themselves sitting together with five plates full of food; most of them belong to Jaehyun. He makes zero attempt of hiding his zealous excitement, enjoying the way Taeyong’s face mellows down to expression of fondness at the sight of his enthusiasm. “Well, what are you waiting, for? Eat up, Jaehyunnie.”

Jaehyun gives him one last look full with his utmost gratitude before digging in, plating chickens and fries in smaller plate for starter. He takes a mouthful and Taeyong laughs, probably at how round his cheeks have become with food inside, and while Jaehyun will often feel offended whenever people pointed out about the roundness of his cheeks, this is Taeyong, and he earns pass for every single thing that he does in Jaehyun’s heart.

“Slow down, they’re not going anywhere,” Taeyong chides him playfully, picking up fries from his own plate with his fingers, then recoils immediately upon realizing how oily they are.

Jaehyun chokes out a laugh at his hyung’s hilarious expression. Without thinking, he stabs some fries with his fork and brings it close to Taeyong’s face, “say _aahh_ , hyung.”

Taeyong blinks at the offered food, perplexed. Only when faint hue of scarlet blooms on his porcelain cheeks does Jaehyun realized what he just did. His grip on the fork loosens, but his hand doesn’t fall, neither does the amused grin on his face. He knows his eyes are probably shaking and if Taeyong takes a look, he can easily tell, but for now, the elder’s gaze is still transfixed on the inoffensive fries and fork held out to him, saving Jaehyun from further awkwardness.

“Well,” Jaehyun tries his luck, shaking his extended hand. “Aahh?”

From under the shade of his cap, Taeyong steals a quick, shy glance at Jaehyun before lowering his glance back to offered food. This time, it is Taeyong’s fingers that encircle Jaehyun’s wrist, securing its position as Taeyong scoops down a little forward, catching the fries between his teeth and tears them away from the fork.

Jaehyun watches, short-winded to the point he doubts he’s even breathing. Taeyong does it so sensually like he’s posing for video shoot yet so natural at the same time. Taeyong carries himself with such fluid grace, unintentional sensuality in his movements. He wears them like second skin, comes naturally to him like breathing. A gift that blooms even more under the training he underwent; now he exudes power as well as elegance, charming every seeing eyes that fall on his figure.

Coupled with his almost unreal appearance – big, dark, starry-night eyes framed by full lashes, diamond cut jawlines and high cheekbones, slightly round nose that balances his strong facial features, untended yet perfectly shaped brows, and small, adorable lip – it is impossible not to be drawn to Lee Taeyong. And Jaehyun is inescapably attracted to him, has been since the very first time he laid his eyes on Taeyong in the practice room.

He recalls how he had starred, starry-eyed, before stuttering his introduction sewn in with apology. Taeyong had laughed at his clumsiness but politely hid it behind his hand – the very same hand that is now tightly fastened on Jaehyun’s wrist, before introducing himself as well, “Lee Taeyong, nice to meet you too, Yoonoh-yah.”

“Jaehyunnie?” Taeyong – the present Taeyong – calls, the image of his younger self with bigger eyes and softer face overlaps.

Even with his face half-hidden by the black cap, Jaehyun can see how Taeyong still carries his striking features from his older days. He has visibly matured now, cheeks not as squishy with baby fats gone, but he still retains the childlike quality, especially when he laughs carelessly; eyes drawing crescent and lips pulled back revealing his teeth. Honest and unfeigned. Pure; like molten gold and snow flake.

Jaehyun blinks, casting off the shadow of Taeyong’s adolescent self from his view. The elder is now gazing at him; curious yet not assessing. With another blink, Jaehyun scraps the last of his astoundment, slipping the mask of playfulness onto his face. “Do you like the fries, hyung?”

If Taeyong senses something amiss with Jaehyun’s behavior, he has apparently decided it’s wiser to ignore it, just Jaehyun being Jaehyun, or maybe because he already concludes from Jaehyun’s behavior it’s not something he should fret over. “Not bad,” he replies, letting go of Jaehyun’s finger for tissue to clean his greasy fingers.

Just like that, the magic around them is broken; the lump in Jaehyun’s throat dissolves, unblocking his windpipes. He ducks his head, returning to his food, taking another piece of tenderly roasted chicken meat to his plate. The piece is quite big but the sight of it, added with its dizzyingly delicious aroma, increases Jaehyun’s already humongous appetite. He takes a mouthful, chewing thoughtfully and hums in pleasure when his teeth tear the meat apart, making savory juices flood his taste buds.

He’s too absorbed in his food that he didn’t notice Taeyong shuffling around. Suddenly, his hyung already got his phone out, raising it up with camera directed at them and angles his head slightly, “let’s take a picture.”

Jaehyun moves in auto-pilot at the mention ‘picture’. He eyes the camera and tries his best to forge a smile with his full mouth. It ends in a flash; Taeyong has always been good at taking photo. While Taeyong checks the result on his phone, Jaehyun hastily chews his chicken before swallowing them. He pouts, “Hyung!”

Taeyong’s gaze only flits to him in a split second, but Jaheyun doesn’t miss the glint of mischief coloring those dark-honey eyes. His lips turn crooked upwards, attempting to hide his equally mirthful grin. But Jaehyun knows Taeyong understands, as if in cue, he shows his phone to Jaehyun. On the screen are the two of them; Taeyong not quiet smiling and Jaehyun with cheek bloated, smiling with his eyes rather than his mouth.

“Why did you take it when I’m eating?” he tries to sound upset, he really does, but smile already breaks out on Taeyong’s face, and it’s really difficult to get angry at him when he’s like that; all spun-sugar and diamond-dazzle.

“You look cute like that, fans will like it, don’t worry”

Jaehyun stabs another piece of chicken, venting out his annoyance. With a huff, he complains, “I don’t wanna be cute, I wanna be tough and manly!”

“Aren’t you already?” Taeyong says, so off-handedly that Jaehyun cannot quite fathom whether he’s joking or not. His hand stills midair, in the middle of removing the chicken to his plate, eyes widening ever so slightly.

Sometimes he envies Taeyong for being able to speak out his mind so easily. Even though he knows his hyung is not exactly open when it comes to certain issue, when it’s something like this, he doesn’t seem to have problem with voicing his opinion. Maybe it’s because he’s the hyung, their leader, and he pampers the younger members a lot that he has become used to praising them or using the term of endearment.

But even Jaehyun still feels conscious sometimes when he’s complimenting someone’s appearance, bashful eyes always falling to his laps whenever he’s made to say someone is ‘handsome’ or ‘beautiful’. Meanwhile those flattering remarks always come out from Taeyong’s mouth easily, flowing like water, clean and sincere.

Timidly, Jaehyun asks, “you really think, so?”

Their eyes meet and when locked like that, Jaehyun imagines they’re two separated galaxy, bridged by gilded path of stars, making an astral connection. He finds himself losing in Taeyong’s eyes, hands letting go of the railing as he ventures inside that vortex of alluring dark. One of his remarkable feature is his eyes; calling out and captivating. All Jaehyun wants to do is let himself being drawn in, attracted by unbidden law of gravity. Like black hole; frightening yet beautiful in its enigma. You cannot help but be charmed, growing curious as to know what does it hide behind its seemingly impenetrable layers of dark.

What does Taeyong hides then, behind those mirrors of opulent black, past the wall of shimmering charcoal?

“Jaehyunnie,”

“Yeah?” He responds, startled but not looking away.

“You’re spacing out a lot today, are you okay? Are you tired?”

“I-wha-?”

Taeyong frowns under the cap, dull color of regret streaked across the canvas of his face. “I’m sorry, I should have asked you before we go.” Dejectedly, Taeyong says. He retracts his hand to his laps, phone cradled between his palms.

Jaehyun’s breath stutters, ungraceful trip of long, uncoordinated legs on slippery floor.  “No, no, no, hyung, it’s not like that! It’s just, I have a lot in my mind, yeah, I have a lot, with graduation and all,” he says quickly. “This helps me relax actually, this,” he gestures toward the foods. “Is really, really helpful. Eases my nerves. Thank you, Hyung, I mean it.”

“Do you?” Taeyong asks, doubtful yet hopeful all the same. All of sudden, he looks smaller than he already is. The food silently judge Jaehyun, cold-silver utensils condemning.

Jaehyun drops the fork, cringes internally when it makes noisy clatter, but he’s determined to bring back the light to Taeyong’s face. He reaches out to Taeyong’s hand then, catching the same thin wrist once again. His brain is huge, extensive library that stretches out infinitely. He flutters here and there in panic, rummaging shelves after shelves to find a topic that can distract Taeyong’s mind away from creeping guilt. “I do,” he affirms quickly, “I do not lie to you, Hyung.”

Taeyong stares at him, dark eyes assessing. Jaehyun swallows, hoping for his eyes to be more articulate than his mouth will ever be in expressing himself. “Except in mafia game,” Taeyong says finally after holding their gaze together for what could have been a century for Jaehyun’s anxious heart.

With the dejection gone from Taeyong’s voice, Jaehyun feels his heart starting to beat easier again, steadier. He nods eagerly, “true, except in mafia game.”

Smiles again Taeyong do, and he is surreally beautiful like that, like he’s not quite real and Jaehyun doubts if he ever exists at all. He could have been dreaming for all he knows, because he’s sure no human – no man – can be this beautiful. “I’m glad then. I just want to cheer you up, Jaehyunnie. I thought what’s better to uplift your mood than this.”

Taeyong eyes the food laid before them; food that judge Jaehyun no longer. The younger boy follows after him, but his mind is retracing back Taeyong’s sentences, word by word until he catches the ones that had arrested his attention. “Cheer me up?”

“It could have been just me, but,” Taeyong is still staring down at the table, intentionally avoiding Jaehyun’s curious gaze or he’s simply transfixed by the amount of food they’ve ordered (they did order _a lot_ ). Jaehyun doesn’t know, doesn’t really care, because his heart is already accelerating in tempo as his brain slowly works everything together. “You had looked down earlier today. Sad, unsure,” he frowns, “scared, even. And I just-“

Taeyong stops with a sigh, Jaehyun keeps his mouth shut, patiently waiting for his hyung to continue.

“I get it, kind of. I mean, graduation is good, it means we’ve accomplished something, but it’s also scary, daunting. Intimidating. I felt the same too when I graduated two years ago. And I thought I could help, some way, listen to your qualm, maybe? Figured you wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it in the dorm with all the kids and all. So here we are.”

He eventually raises his head, and when their eyes meet once again, Jaehyun’s brain put all the puzzle pieces together. The thing is, Lee Taeyong knows Jaehyun, and he must have caught the wobble on the corner of Jaehyun’s smile when people congratulated him, and while people took in as the sign of his overwhelming happiness, Taeyong interpreted it exactly with pin-point accuracy.

Taeyong sees all of him, like Jaehyun is wide opened book. Like Jaehyun is garden with no gate; exposed from front and above for anyone to see. Even though his shoulders are broader, even though his hands are so much larger, even if his fingers are longer, even if his body is sturdier; under Taeyong’s perceptive eyes, he always feels vulnerable.

It’s daunting, like graduation, it’s scary, because he had unconsciously let Taeyong knows _this_ much about himself, but what does he know about Taeyong? Not much. And it’s sad, for Jaehyun wants to know, a lot more. He wishes Taeyong could share a part of him a little bit more, could unravel the carefully guarded fragment of himself some more.

But Taeyong has refused because he is not ready, and even if Jaehyun had sworn he’d respect his hyung’s decision, the blues of sadness and disappointment that dig their jagged, brittle claws on Jaehyun’s skin are inescapable.

Why isn’t Taeyong opening up to him? He knows it’s not because Taeyong has no faith on him; the amount of trust Taeyong puts on him exceeds the one he had on the other members. Even though it was never spoken out loud, they all know. There is no need to verbalize it with superficial words; his gesture had expressed it enough.

Natural touch and easy smiles. Tense lines of shoulder that melt whenever Jaehyun is near. Long, playful steps he took just to match his pace with Jaehyun. Eyes that would habitually seek for him. Slow, shaking fingers reaching out, and catches them between his own, Jaehyun does. Accepting, welcoming; the very same way Taeyong has always done for him.

It is an honor he’d eternally be grateful for, he’d wear them on his chest, proud like medal. But even then it’s not enough for Taeyong to fully open himself in front of Jaehyun. Is it because he’s not strong enough? It is because he’s still a child in his hyung’s eyes? It is because of the two years age gap between them? If it is, then Jaehyun is doomed for there is nothing he can do to cross the rift created by time.

It is a part of his qualm, the one that shakes his heart and quivers his smile. He has graduated but he’s powerless still. This is what Taeyong wants to know but not quite. Jaehyun is not sure if he can really share his dilemma concerning Taeyong, but Taeyong wants to know, and if it’s as much as telling him the general idea around it, he thinks he can.

“Thank you, Hyung,” Jaehyun uses his other hand to fully enclose Taeyong’s hands in his, he holds them tightly, putting them on the table in between the half-full plates. “What do I do without you,” he laughs shakily.

Taeyong laughs too, then, vibrant with nostalgia. “A lot, you’re fully capable yourself.”

“I’m not sure Mark would be happy to hear,” he quips.

“True,” Taeyong agrees, but when he speaks next, the hint of playfulness has toned down into solemnity and genuine concern. “Well, so, am I right or I’m just imagining things?”

Jaehyun wants to tell Taeyong how unfair he’s being, how easily it is for Taeyong to demand him to open up when he refuses to disclose himself to Jaehyun. But Jaehyun has lost the battle particularly a long time ago when Taeyong had effortlessly managed to steal a significant part of Jaehyun’s heart with his uninhibited smile and alluring passion. What he wants, the younger can only give.

So speaks Jaehyun does, of his fear and insecurity. Of expectation that weighs his shoulder down and wears his confidence. Of fear that cripples him and chews on his anxious heart. Of worries that make him lie awake at night, staring at the dark ceiling imagining the worsts and possibilities.

Of hope, that would sneak under his blanket at night to help him sleep, whispering tenderly on his ears that everything will be alright, and things that went wrong could be fine again.

All the while, Taeyong listens intently. Liquid-onyx eyes shimmering with understanding, with kindness and artless compassion. Jaehyun doesn’t tell him about how those eyes would make his heart constrict, how the powerlessness would claim him whenever he sees those eyes shaded with similar fear that plagued Jaehyun’s heart.

“I wish I was stronger. Graduation is supposed to be happy, not this,” he laughs bitterly. “Depressing.”

“It’s okay with worrying, everyone is bound to be scared when they’re starting something new in their life, it’s only normal.” Taeyong reassures him. “And you are, Jaehyun. Strong. You already are.”

His voice is sure, like sundown. Certain, like sunrise. And with the same certainty, it tears Jaehyun’s heart apart, because he knows it is not true. He is not strong enough; he’s still weak, still powerless. If he wasn’t, he could have protected Taeyong, he could have saved his hyung from being hurt. He could have shielded him from merciless words that had torn his heart apart. He could be Taeyong’s shoulder to lean on when his head is too heavy with thoughts of responsibility.

If he was already so strong, then why is Taeyong still crying alone? Away from people’s eyes, hidden under the cold shroud of night. If he was already so strong, then why is Taeyong still unconsciously shies away from people’s eyes? Every single movement stilled and guarded as if he’s scared people would jump on him with blades raised any seconds.

If he was already so strong like Taeyong had said it with diamond-rough conviction, then why isn’t Taeyong opening up to him? Why is Taeyong still keeping a part of him secret from Jaehyun?

Taeyong had said that certain part is dark. Toxic. And he doesn’t want to hurt Jaehyun. He had used word ‘pollute’, and Jaehyun recalls bristling angrily at his hyung.

“You are not,” he remembers insisting, gripping Taeyong’s frail shoulders tightly under his shaking grip. “Toxic. You are not, Hyung. You won’t hurt me, you can’t. I know it.”

However, Taeyong just smiled. Sad and apologetic, genuinely so that Jaehyun couldn’t refuse it when he quietly asked – begged – Jaehyun not to make him expose himself any further. “Please, Yoonoh-yah?”

Jaehyun clasped his mouth shut even if he’s torn apart inside. Splintered, like Taeyong as he fell whenever people started running their train-wreck of mouths about Taeyong. He’s tired of seeing his hyung so jaded, broken at the seams but still desperately trying to hold himself together. For his juniors, for his team, but on top of all, for himself.

He admires Taeyong for that resilience. For his bravery to stand and accept all blades and arrows directed at him. He loves that part of Taeyong, Jaehyun had realized when he held crying Taeyong in his arms that night, catching every drop of his precious, crystalline tears with his skin.

Jaehyun loves him, irrevocable and unconditional. Indescribable, not that he ever bothers trying to. He loves him in the most simple and natural way you could love someone; wanting him safe and happy. Wanting to be the one who put smile on his face and wipes his tears away. Wanting to be together, wanting to know him more than anyone else in the world could ever do.

But knowing all of him, Jaehyun is not allowed to. Because he is not strong enough, because as much as he tries to deny it, he knows that maybe the carefully guarded part of Taeyong is that toxic and detrimental. Taeyong draws the line between them not because he doesn’t trust him, but for Jaehyun’s own safety.

It is his inadequacy, and the realization is what stops Jaehyun from spilling his self-doubt and trepidation all over the table. He lets his words wither in his throat. They scatter like fallen brown leaves in October’s gust; dried and easily breakable. If Taeyong knows, it’d only add more to the elder’s already towering stacks of guilt, Jaehyun would rather die than knowing he had unintentionally put another strain to Taeyong’s already strung out heart.

Jaehyun pulls their joined hands up, pressing them to his temple. Closing his eyes, he feels slight tremor under Taeyong’s skin and he’s suddenly reminded that they’re in public, and there could have been people who recognized them. Taeyong might be wearing a cap to conceal his identity, but Jaehyun is not; damp brown hair and face for anyone to see.

But it’s too late now, isn’t it? Even if there were people who saw them and weird rumors start circulating around, they could have played it as senior helping his junior out. He knows Taeyong is scared, he is too, he cannot lie, but for now, he just wants to pretend that they’re alone, so this Taeyong with his shaky fingers and beautiful, beautiful dark eyes of compassion and humane tenderness could really belong to him.

“Jae-“

“You really think so?” Jaehyun asks the same question for the second time that night. “You really think I am strong, Hyung?”

“You are,” Taeyong answers immediately, the same conviction from prior fortifying his words.

Jaehyun opens his eyes then, and he wonders if his eyes are lens broken. Set forever in auto-focus on Taeyong, refusing to capture anything else as anything but hexagonal blurs so only Taeyong is left sharp and standing out.

Taeyong smiles; full-moon magnificent and cherry-blossom ethereal. Cheeks vivid shade of shy scarlet and eyes twinkling starry sky. “Silly, Jaehyunnie, you are strong. You have always been for me.”

Jaehyun thinks it’s okay if his words are dried, crumbly leaves in autumn, because even if they fall and die, they had served a purpose in the precious cycle of life and still serves one even after their death. They’d return to the soil, absorbed to make even richer, bountiful earth. Not vain, not meaningless, never worthless.

Those words – those worries and terrors of him – will be his motivation. They’d push him forward when he’s about to give up, reminding him that Taeyong is strong, and unless he’s half as strong, he wouldn’t be able to support him. He wouldn’t be able to protect him.

“Thank you,” he says, breathless. Jaehyun can feel the stretches of his lips, showing Taeyong his dimpled-smile that the elder had cooed ever since the first day they met. “I promise I will be even better.” _I promise I can be anyone, I promise I can be anything, I promise I can be what you need and even more_ , the words crowded in his throat. He doesn’t let them out, slowly swallowing them one by one.

“Good luck, then,” Taeyong says, “I will always be here when you need me.”

And he will, won’t he? For Taeyong will always be there; like home to come back to. A place to return to when dusk has fallen and night reigns over day. A sanctuary he seeks when Jaehyun is feeling vulnerable from the crippling worry of his future.

Jaehyun wishes from the most profound depth of his heart that one day he can be that place for Taeyong. One day, when he is bigger and better, when he is stronger. One day, when he’s ready to take all of Taeyong in and his demon won’t eat him apart.

And maybe in that one day, he can tell Taeyong what his stuttering heart has always wanted to say; of love steadfast as it is inevitable. Like fate, in the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear, darling friend “pinktogrey” found my previous jaeyong fic, confronted me, and the rest was history. Dedicated to you because you provided me with so many information, and inspired me to write this. Let’s meet soon and take pic in front of Marion like Jaeyong, yeah?
> 
> Apologize for any timeline or place inaccuracy. Set after Jaehyun’s graduation 20160204.
> 
> find me on twitter @gigitaeil (NCT only)


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